


Seeking Snitches

by javabi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Kiss, Fluff, Harry Potter References, M/M, Nerdiness, Quidditch, Short One Shot, dean and cas are harry potter nerds aww ♥♥, omg thats an actual tag wow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 09:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1814116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/javabi/pseuds/javabi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak is the most formidable Snitch of all time, at least as far as their college's pickup Quidditch league is concerned. Dean Winchester is... well, Dean is pretty freaking attracted to the guy. So what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeking Snitches

**Author's Note:**

> this is what happens when you're in the middle of writing fic and BOOM suddenly consumed with HP feelings

Sometimes Dean felt like their games of pickup Quidditch on the quad were the only thing that got him through the week. Maybe that was an exaggeration; their puny liberal arts college in the middle of nowhere wasn’t _that_ bad. Still, there was plenty to love about their Quidditch matches.

For example: the rush he felt when the deflated soccer ball that served as their Quaffle soared through the other team’s hoops; the squelch of mud beneath his sneakers; Charlie’s hilarious attempts to commentate like Luna Lovegood (“Watch out for the blibbering humdinger, Garth!”); the various hysterics of every Snitch’s evasion techniques; the occasional cheer of a passer-by who understood what was going on.

Oh, and Castiel Novak.

The Physics/Religious Studies double major (yeah, Dean didn’t get it either, but with a name like _Castiel_ he shouldn’t have been surprised) was president of the Strategy Club _and_ a natural superstar athlete. Somehow. He was notorious in every position, hurling Bludgers like sniper shots and blocking the Chasers’ scoring attempts better than a brick wall. Everyone knew that his favorite position was the Snitch, but no one ever let him play it. There were a number of reasons for this: The combination of his speed, knowledge of physics, and strategic finesse made him literally impossible to catch. It was a nightmare, but every once in a while they would agree to let him play the position, just to keep the poor guy happy.

It was on one such day that Dean’s not-so-platonic feelings for the guy were finally revealed.

“Hey Winchester! Is that a broom between your legs, or are you just happy to see me?”

“ _What_?!” Dean turned so quickly he heard his neck crack, his heart beating so fiercely in his chest he thought it might make a run for it. He didn’t know who he was expecting; it was only Charlie. She looked kind of confused about his reaction, but that didn’t stop her from pelting Dean in the chest with a dodgeball/Bludger.

He dropped the Quaffle with a curse. Charlie laughed maniacally and ran off to attack some other poor, unsuspecting person.

As he was glaring at the back of Charlie’s head, a blur of color rushed in front of Dean, followed by a second and third blur a few seconds later. Dean tore his eyes away from Charlie to follow the runners; unsurprisingly, the one in the front was Castiel. The guy was grinning that goofy, toothy, squinty smile that he was known for, positively _glowing_ with glee as he sprinted around their makeshift pitch. The sparkly purple wings strapped to his back flapped pathetically in the headwind, the sock holding their “Snitch” tennis ball bouncing jovially off of his perfectly sculpted ass. Yet he still somehow managed to make it look like this was his natural state of being.

The Seekers (Dean thought they were Kevin and Gilda, but it was hard to tell at that distance) were yelling angrily while panting for breath, which was typical for anyone unfortunate enough to have that position while Castiel was Snitch. That was when Dean got an idea.

In hindsight, it was kind of a terrible idea.

“Hey Victor! Vic! C’mere!”

Victor Henrikson was their team captain and one of Dean’s best friends. They had hooked up once freshman year, but the relationship had gone no further. As it turned out, they were better friends than lovers.

The captain called a time out and then jogged over, Lisa Braeden (the other team’s captain and another of Dean’s exes – okay, maybe he had a type) following close behind. “What’s going on?” she asked, sweeping her dark bangs out of her eyes.

“I thought maybe we should give our poor Seekers a break,” Dean replied, nodding towards the spot on the ground where Kevin and Gilda were collapsed, panting and sweating. Castiel was standing over them, blinking unassumingly and offering them each a hand up. “they look like they could use it.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” said Victor, looking around at the rest of his team. “Anyone up for it?”

Silence, of course. But Dean had been counting on that.

“I don’t mind filling in for Kev, if no one else wants to.” Dean offered, feigning hesitance. He was careful not to make eye contact with Castiel, as though the guy would somehow figure out Dean’s true motives from a single glance.

“Okay, sweet,” Victor said with an appreciative nod. “Someone want to step up and fill in for Gilda?”

Dean crossed his fingers, praying for someone slow. He had to stop himself from showing any sign of happiness when Meg Masters raised her hand. Meg was clever, but she wasn’t particularly fast on the pitch. With the two new Seekers chosen, Lisa signaled for the game to resume.

As always, Castiel got a ten second head start. Dean dug his foot into the dirt before him nervously, suddenly realizing that this might not have been the best decision. He wasn’t fast, there was no way he’d ever catch the guy, and he’d probably just end up making a complete fool of himself. This whole plan was supposed to get him closer to Castiel, but right now it seemed like he’d just be tiring himself out for no reason.

“Are you even listening to me, Dean?”

“Huh?” Dean shook his head and looked at the girl beside him. Meg was smirking as though she knew something she wasn’t supposed to, and her brow was raised patronizingly. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“That’s what I thought.” Meg sighed. “I just wanted to know if you were ever planning on making a move on Clarence over there.”

“On _who_?”

“ _Clarence_ ,” she growled, rolling her eyes. “The boy with the baby blues over there. Yeah, the one you’ve been making heart eyes at ever since he joined our little league.”

“What the—“ Dean snarled, ready to defend himself tooth and nail. But before he could finish the sentence Victor blew his whistle, signifying that the Seekers could move.

Dean didn’t have time to think about Meg’s stupid comments after that.

As expected, Castiel was an unstoppable whirlwind of trickery. He dove over fences, climbed trees, and ricocheted his way through the science building. The track team (which was jogging as a unit for their daily two-mile) was forced to scatter as he barreled mercilessly through the center of their group. He somehow managed to collect all four Bludgers, then climbed a tree and started hurling them down on Dean and Meg. And he did it all with a fucking _smile_.

After the third dodgeball hit Meg in the stomach, she screamed in fury, “All right, I’m fucking done! Shove a cactus up your ass, Castiel. I quit.” She ripped off the yellow headband that distinguished her as Seeker and threw it onto the ground with malice. Then she looked expectantly at Dean. “Well? You coming?”

“Coming where?”

Meg rolled her eyes. “With me. Haven’t you had enough of this bullshit yet?”

“Uh,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, looking furtively between Castiel and Meg. The former was lounging in his tree, relaxed smile still plastered to his face while he traced patterns on the dogeball’s surface. Meg was waiting for an answer. “No, that’s ok. I think – um, I think I can catch him actually. See you later.”

She gawped at him, but it only lasted a split second before her mouth closed and curled into a smirk. “No fucking way you can catch that nerdy little dude with wings, Winchester. I guess I’ll see you in the morning… If you know what I mean.”

Meg snickered and ran off, Dean yelling after her, “No I don’t know what you mean, Meg!” He sighed, then looked up at Castiel. “Look, I can’t get you up there, ok? Either come down and we can end this game at some point this century, or stay in the damn tree and I’ll leave. You choose.”

“Okay.” Castiel said gruffly, jumping down from his perch. Not before he pegged Dean in the leg with the Bludger, though. Of fucking course.

“Was that necessary?”

“Only in the sense that it was enjoyable.”

Dean groaned. _Why_ was this asshole so attractive? “Whatever, dude. Are we gonna play or not?”

Castiel cocked his head. The action reminded Dean of a puppy who’d just heard a weird sound. He tried desperately to stop thinking it was cute. “You’re Sam Winchester’s older brother, right?”

Squinting suspiciously, Dean replied, “Yeah. How do you know?”

“My older brother, Lu, tutors him sometimes,” Castiel replied dryly, as though this conversation was happening in the DMV instead of in the middle of their game. Dean realized that he should probably savor it; this was the longest amount of time he had _ever_ talked to the guy. Every second was sacred. “He’s a good student. Does he know where he wants to go to college yet?”

“Uh… Stanford, I think,” Dean said. It was kind of cool that someone knew Sam, and that the person knew what a genius his little brother was. “He wants to be a lawyer.”

“I’m sure he’ll make a great one.” Castiel replied, smile returning to his face. This smile didn’t have the mischievous glint in it that the others had; it was gentle and warm, like a bath. Wow, Dean was getting sappy in his old age.

“Yeah, yeah me too,” he said, returning the smile.

“We should start the game again,” said Castiel pointedly. “the others will be wondering what happened.”

“Unless Meg’s already started telling them we’re making out behind the dining hall or something,” Dean muttered darkly. Mortification swept over him in a wave; did he _seriously_ just say that? Out _loud_? To Castiel Novak? “Uh, oh man, I mean— I didn’t mean what you think— shit.”

“Do you _want_ to make out behind the dining hall?”

Dean choked on air. “Holy – no! No that’s not what I meant. I mean, if you wanted to we— no. Nope. I’m good. Thank you for the kind offer but – nope. No.” Smooth, Winchester.

Was he imagining the disappointed look on Castiel’s face?

“It was a joke.” Castiel said dryly.

“Oh.” Could this conversation get any more awkward? “Ok. Yeah, sorry. Let’s just start playing.”

Castiel nodded, the devilish gleam returning to his features. Without a word, the guy sprinted off between two dorms. Dean sighed and followed.

Within a few minutes of the beginning of their chase it was pretty clear that something was different this time. Castiel wasn’t climbing things anymore, nor did he seem interested in disrupting other people, throwing objects, or galloping through buildings. In fact, the guy was just running in a (relatively) straight line. And Dean seemed to be _gaining_ on him.

 “Why are you— going so— _slowly_?!” Dean panted, his blood pounding in his ears as he struggled to get even closer. A few more inches and he’d finally be able to grab that damn tennis ball.

“Maybe I’m just tired.” Castiel replied nonchalantly. That warm, gentle, bath-like smile was dancing around his lips again. The idiot didn’t sound tired at all.

Finally, Dean was close enough to grab the Snitch.

As he reached for it, the thrill of victory already fluttering in his chest, something funny happened with Dean’s feet. Castiel had somehow managed to turn on the spot _just_ as Dean was within reach, tangling their legs together and bringing both boys to the grassy ground with a _thump_. And oh, look at that, Dean just happened to have fallen right on top of Castiel. As if he hadn’t embarrassed himself enough today.

Chest to chest and breathing heavily, both students stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. And then the terror set in. “Oh my god,” Dean stammered. He could feel his face growing hot as a stupid blush coated his cheeks. “Dude, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

He never finished that sentence.

Before he could figure out what exactly was going on, Castiel’s hand was buried in the collar of his shirt and pulling him down toward Castiel’s face. They were so close – nose to nose – Dean could see every miniscule speck of blue in the dude’s eyes. And then a pair of lips were enveloping his own and the warm, gentle bath smile melted right into his mouth.

When their lips separated a few seconds later (was it seconds? Or had it been a few centuries? Dean couldn’t tell) Castiel giggled. Honest to God _giggled_ , which was hilarious considering how stoic the guy normally was. Before he knew it, Dean was laughing too, because why not? The hottest guy in the _universe_ had just kissed him in the middle of their Quidditch game. This kind of situation didn’t happen every day.

“Uh… that was a surprise.” said Dean once their laughter had subsided. He rolled onto his back so that the two of them were side by side. He reached for Castiel’s hand and held it tightly.

“A pleasant one, right?”

Dean grinned. “Definitely. How did you know?”

“That you were attracted to me?”

“Yeah.”

Castiel huffed as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve seen people look at snuggling kittens with less soppiness than you look at me sometimes, Dean.”

A flare of embarrassment rose in Dean’s chest again, but it was vastly overshadowed by the joy he felt when Castiel said his name. “Well, I’m glad one of us actually had the guts to initiate it.”

“Me too.”

Dean felt a slight pressure on the side of his head; Castiel was leaning against him, resting his temple against Dean’s in a subtle display of affection. It was pretty freaking sweet. He felt a rush of something calm and warm flow through his body, and a sudden need to express it.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re pretty magical.”

“I think you’re pretty magical too, Dean.”

Dean beamed at the darkening sky above him. The Snitch was caught, but this game wasn’t going to end any time soon.

**Author's Note:**

> ahhhh this was so fun to write! I had a "street Quidditch" league (it was as unofficial as you can get, so I'll call it that) in high school, so most of the stuff that happened in this fic are drawn from my own experience. I didn't include the story of the time one of our Seekers climbed the baseball backstop, though. That was intense.
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for reading!! I hope you dudes enjoyed it ;u;


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